Something Wiccan This Way Comes
by Axellia
Summary: No Wincest, no little sister, no new hunter, no pairings... Just everyone's favourite brothers trying to help someone who has lost their memory. Chapter 11 finally up!
1. When It Isn't Like It Should Be

_Greetings, y'all. Well, this is an experiment, and unfortunately, y'all are being subjected to it. I'm really not a fan of first-person stories, and I think it's because I can't really write them, so I set myself the challenge to write this. The idea hit me many moons ago when I was on the night shift (making cardboard boxes for eight hours at a time really will do strange things to one's imagination!) and I decided to write. Maybe it's crazy – I blame the evil plot bunnies of doom! And it's something I'm going to continue with, even if nobody reads it, because, at the end of the day, it's going to help with my writing. Although I write for others to enjoy, so if nobody likes it, maybe I won't continue._

_Ok, that you didn't need to know, this has slightly more relevance. I own a few things in life – my car, my laptop, my OCs… not Supernatural, and no amount of wishing is going to rectify that… only my imagination!_

_My aim is to have a short, stand-alone story. I'm hoping no more than fifteen chapters (because I already have another story with a chapter count growing well past one hundred – I _really_ don't have the time for another!!) I have no intention of pairing anyone with anyone, and this story, if we had to place it, would be somewhere mid-season one… after Route 666, but not much further than that, but as far as spoilers go, I don't think there will be anything major, but I'll let you know if there is._

_Which leaves me with one thing... Many thanks to SparkyCSI for being my beta!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter One: When It Isn't Like It Should Be**

It wasn't that every bone in my body ached; it was that every _cell_ in my body ached. That was the first thing I realised as I awoke, twisting over on the bed, keeping my eyes tightly closed – I wasn't ready for opening them. Not after last night.

Last night. With my eyes still closed I frowned, trying to remember. Only I couldn't. And it wasn't just last night I couldn't remember – it was _anything._

Strangely, that didn't seem important. Not when I heard the voices. I flicked my eyes open and found some material heading towards my face. Well, that was it. I was scrambling to my feet, dashing off the bed and out of the room. There was a reason I couldn't remember anything, whatever that was, and if I wanted to remember any of it, it wasn't through material heading towards my face.

I darted out of the door and found myself outside in the pouring rain. The rain felt good on my face, but now wasn't the time to appreciate it. First, I had to get away from here… wherever here was. I darted past the only car in the parking lot (of a motel, I noticed) and into the night, anxious to get away from the people who had been in that room with me. I hadn't gotten far down the deserted street, which incidentally, was in the middle of nowhere, when I sensed that they were following me.

I squeezed through a hedge and into a field, the branches tugging at my hair, and scratching my bare legs. My bare feet sank into the mud as I charged across the grass, heading for a road I could see on the other side of the field.

It wasn't until I was on that road that I realised that I had lost who was following me, so I allowed myself to slow to a walk to catch my breath. As I did, the pain began to slowly pump around my body, replacing the adrenaline. As did the cold. Short of my underwear, the only thing I was wearing was a plaid shirt, which drowned me, coming mid-way down my thigh. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find some warmth as I prayed that either something would return to my memory, or, someone would drive past and stop and help.

It was the latter, in the form of a semi. It pulled over, just in front of me, and the driver, a rather large man in his fifties, offered me a ride.

Only, there was something in his eyes that I didn't trust, so I tried to politely decline. Which was when he got out of his truck and grabbed me.

'Let go of me,' I cried, struggling against his weight as he pinned me up against the side of his truck.

'Now, what's a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here, on your lonesome?' He asked, ignoring my feeble attempts to kick at him.

It didn't take long for me to work out what he wanted, and after escaping from wherever I escaped from, I didn't have much energy to try and stop him. But that didn't mean that I wasn't going to try. Just as I began to feel the palms of my hands burn, and just as the man had ripped open the shirt, the man went flying off me.

He had been tackled to the ground by a blur of another man. Well, I didn't stick around long enough to find out any more. Or at least I tried not to. A third man grabbing me as I ploughed into him stopped me.

I screamed and tried to push him out of the way, but he held tight.

'Calm down, we're trying to help you.' He told me.

I looked up and met his brown eyes.

'Look, I'm going to let go of you, but please don't run away.'

The rain was pelting down into my face, washing my tears away, as I continued to stare at him, and yet, he let go. And so I ran, ignoring his shouts. Past the two men who were still fighting, past the truck, and as far down the road as I could get.

A while later, the semi drove past me, without stopping this time. And I swear it swerved intentionally to drench me head to foot in the muddy water of a puddle.

Barely a few minutes later, a car slowed down beside me. Inside were the two guys who had stopped earlier to help. I carried on walking, trying to ignore them.

'Will you get in?' Brown eyes, the passenger, asked me.

I bit my lip and shook my head, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me.

'Please?'

I shook my head again.

'Are you going to walk all night?' Asked the driver, 'because I have a full tank of gas and can probably drive further than you can walk.'

Brown eyes hissed something at the driver before sticking his head back out of the window. 'We just want to help.'

'How do I know that?' I asked. 'I thought that truck driver wanted to help.'

Brown eyes sighed, 'if we wanted to hurt you, we could. There are _two_ of us.'

I stopped and turned to face him. He still had that look in his eyes. I couldn't quite place it, but I think it was a good emotion. Next to me, the car stopped.

'Please?' He asked again.

Suddenly I felt tired. 'Sure,' I agreed.

Turns out Brown Eyes was a bit of a gentleman – he got out of the car, wrapped his jacket around me, and helped me into the back.

As the driver spun the car around and headed back in the direction they had come from, I just huddled into a corner and stared at my hands. Well, it was more like _stared through _them. That was until I noticed how filthy and cut they were. I held them up and stared at the red that was seeping in with the black.

'We'll get them cleaned up as soon as we get back to the room,' Brown eyes must have been watching me.

Wordlessly, I dropped my hands back into my lap, and stared down at them. Only a short time later, we were pulling to a stop, and again Brown Eyes was out of the car to open my door, despite the mutterings of the driver, and helping me into their place.

I froze when I realised I was back where I started. My instinctive reaction was to run again, and I backed up to try, only crashing into Brown Eyes.

'We don't want to hurt you,' he said quickly, holding his hands up, 'we found you before… unconscious. We brought you here.'

I stepped away and eyed the two of them warily, 'who are you?'

'I'm Sam,' said Brown Eyes, 'and this is my brother, Dean.'

'Who are you?' Dean asked.

'I don't know,' I told them honestly. I caught a glimpse of myself in the room's mirror. 'But I don't have green eyes.'


	2. Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

_Naed - I'm glad you think so, and thank you! I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations!_

_Again, many thanks to SparkyCSI for being my wonderful beta... although any mistakes are mine because I went back and added to the chapter! (:s)_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Two: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.**

'You don't know who you are, but you know you don't have green eyes?' Dean repeated.

I walked over to the mirror and stared at my reflection. I was filthy – head to toe covered in dirt, and dripping wet – and covered in blood. Although my hair was plastered to the side of my head, it was a light brown, tied back in a now scruffy ponytail, pieces having fallen out of the elastic and falling in long straight tendrils. That seemed quite familiar. But the green eyes? There were few things I was sure about at that point, but one of them was that my eyes weren't green.

I jumped when Sam placed his hand on my shoulder, spinning around to get out of the way. He backed up instantly.

'You're shivering,' he said softly.

It wasn't until he said it, that I realised I was frozen.

'The bathroom is through there,' he said, pointing to door on the far side of the room.

I followed his hand and locked the door behind me, stripping straight out of what was left of my 'clothes' and got straight into the shower, turning the heat up as high as I could bare it.

I don't know how long I was in there. I just stood under the water for the longest time, letting it wash away the dirt, grime, and blood, and slowly, the pain began to subside as well. Eventually, I borrowed the shampoo and washed my hair, before borrowing the shower gel. Finally, I felt human again.

I stepped out of the shower, and walked to the mirror, wiping away the condensation so that I could stare at myself – try to remember something. Anything!

I was shorter than both Sam and Dean, but I couldn't tell if I was average height or not – I couldn't remember what the average height was. Dean was the shorter of the two brothers and my eyes were level with his nose. Now that the grime had been washed away, from the areas of skin that weren't covered in cuts and bruises, I could see that my skin was pale, although my cheeks were rosy from the heat of the shower.

Build wise, I had nothing to compare me to. I would have to wait for something else to compare myself to on that front. Now that my hair was clean, I could see it was a light brown – more than likely lighter, maybe even blonde, when dry. All of this seemed familiar. Yet those big green eyes, staring beseechingly back at me, didn't.

I turned to grab a towel, but as I did, something else caught my attention. On the small of my back, was a tattoo. It was a symbol of something, in black ink – an upside down five point star with ivy and holly spreading out from four of the points.

I couldn't ponder the question for much longer as there was a knock at the door. I quickly wrapped the towel around myself, and opened the door. It was Sam, offering me a pile of clothing.

'Are you alright?' He asked, as he handed them over.

I nodded, 'just trying to remember something.' He smiled and I shut the door, turning my attention to the clothes. There was another button down plaid shirt, and a pair of boxers. Obviously, they weren't going to have women's clothes with them. Or maybe they weren't going to admit to it, I thought with a grin as I slipped the clothes on.

They both drowned me again, but the boxers had a draw string to them and I tied them tightly around my waist. Next, using the comb on the side, I turned my attention to my hair. Out of the ponytail, it came to just above my tattoo, and, well, it _had_ been dragged through a hedge.

It took about as long to comb the knots out of my hair as I had been in the shower, but finally, it was neat. And finally, I left the bathroom.

'About time,' Dean muttered, dashing in past me.

I walked into the room and stopped, wondering exactly what to do next. My body had the answer for me as the fatigue seeped through me.

'We'll get you some proper clothes tomorrow when the store is open,' Sam said. He was seated at a table, behind a laptop. 'Until then, why don't you get some rest?' He pointed to the two queen beds.

A stared at him, trying to work out if I could actually trust them, when Dean came out of the bathroom, 'you going to stand in the middle of the room all night?' He asked as he flopped down onto one of the beds, sticking his hands behind his head, and staring at me.

I looked between the two of them, then to the bed. It was looking tempting. Maybe some sleep would help. So far, they hadn't done anything threatening, either.

I was biting my lip again as I crawled into the bed – was that a nervous habit of mine? Or a newly acquired one? I was asleep before I could work out the answer.

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Morning didn't bring any answers. Just more questions. And the following mornings were just as unsuccessful.

I had been travelling the county with Sam and Dean for a little over two weeks, staying in various motels, trying to find out who I was. But so far, we had had no such luck.

We had fallen into a routine – staying a few nights in each town looking for any clue as to who I was, and why I couldn't remember anything. Sam and I had grown close. Well, I say close, but how close can you get to someone when they don't know anything about you. How close could I get when _I_ didn't know anything about me? I suppose the right thing to say is that I had been left with Sam on more than one occasion, and as such, he was the one I would talk to.

Almost every night, Dean would disappear leaving me alone with Sam. Neither of them would say where he went, although they led me to assume that he was going to bars. If he was, he was getting into a lot of fights, often coming home looking like he had been fighting with someone, although, in my opinion, a lot of the time, it looked like he had been fighting with something that had claws. Whatever he was doing, I didn't ask. And if I tried, both would try to change the subject anyway.

I now had clothes to wear. Dean had gone out at some point, whist I was sleeping, and returned with armfuls of clothes he had gotten from Goodwill. What surprised me the most was the fact they fit me perfectly. When I asked him how he knew, all he said was _I'm an expert on women._

Sam was still ever the gentleman. When it was time to move on, he would put my things in the trunk, and when we arrived at the next place, he would get them out and carry them in for me.

In every town we went to, Sam and Dean would disappear to the local sheriff's office, and each time, they would return empty handed. It seemed like either I had dropped out of the sky, or simply no one was looking for me. Frankly, I didn't know which one was worst.

In the end, it was time for me to find myself a name. The alternative was Dean calling me Annie _after the little orphan girl_. Or Sam waiting until I was looking at him to talk to me. After several hours of Dean suggesting names, including _Buffy, Tara, Angelina, Jennifer, Traci, Mandi… you could be a Britney_, I decided on Lisa. It was simple enough. Not that Dean would call me anything but Annie.

It was a Sunday and Dean had disappeared again at some point, and I was left with only Sam, who was curled up, asleep on the chair in the room. I wrapped the blanket around me and padded quietly over to the small vanity unit, sitting down opposite the mirror, trying to find some answers in the reflection.

'You remember anything?' Sam asked with a yawn.

I glanced at him through the mirror and found him staring intently at me. I shook my head, 'nothing.'

'Dean's gone to see if anyone has filed a missing person's report.'

'You think that someone has?' I asked.

Sam shrugged and got to his feet, stretching, 'I don't know. But someone out there has got to be missing you.'

I returned my attention back to myself, staring at my pale face, 'I hope so,' I muttered.

'We'll find some answers soon,' Sam told me, making me jump as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

It was at that point that the door to the room opened and Dean walked in, 'I hate to break up the little moment you're having there, but I could do with some help, Sam.' I looked closer: he was nursing his arm, which was dripping blood everywhere.

'Dean!' I cried, rushing over to his side with Sam. 'What happened?'

'Annie, go get me a can of Coke,' Dean told me with a wince.

'You don't need a Coke. You need a bandage,' I told him. 'And probably a doctor,' I added as I tried to lift the fabric of his jacket away, only to have the arm jerked away from my hands.

'Lisa, go and get some cans for us,' Sam told me, thrusting some bills into my hands.

'Sam!' I exclaimed, 'soda is not going to-'

'Lisa, just go,' he told me as he practically pushed me away from Dean.

Not happy, I stormed out of the room, grabbing the first jacket I could lay my hands on and headed in the direction of the twenty four hour mini mart.

Instead of going straight in, I sat outside, staring up at the clouds. A thunderstorm was brewing – although there wasn't any rain yet, the heavens sounded like they were arguing with each other. Recently, the weather hadn't been great, but it had pretty much stuck to being misty and cloudy.

I thrust my hands into the pockets of the jacket. Only they came to rest on something heavy and cold. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled out a gun. I nearly dropped it in shock. The headlights from a car pulling into the mart awoke me from the trance I had fallen into, staring at the weapon, and I quickly thrust it back into the jacket.

What the hell was Sam (it was Sam's jacket I had grabbed) doing with a gun? I ducked behind the mini mart and decided to see what else was in the pockets: an ID telling me Sam was a member of the FBI, but his name was 'Collins' and not Winchester, a small amulet of some sort, some spare bullets which looked suspiciously like they were made from silver, and a print out of information on a Razakel, which from what I could gather was a demon.

I stuck the items back in the pockets, realizing that I had been gone for quite a while, and headed into the mart for the Cokes I had long ago been sent for, before heading back to the room. My mind was running a million miles a second as I tried to process what I had discovered.

Alright, so the two were completely crazy, I mean, demons? But then again, they had been looking after me. And what was the deal with the FBI ID? Was Sam really an FBI agent, or was that another lie?

I'll be honest. I very nearly didn't go back into that room. I could have just run. I probably should have.

Instead, I went back in, hung the jacket up on the back of a chair, handed over the cans, which neither brother obviously really wanted, and flopped down in front of the TV, pretending to watch it so that I could think. Nothing made sense to me at that point anyway. So why not add more questions to the list?

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_Hey all! Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think - how I can improve!_


	3. Brown Eyed Girl

_SumOneElse - it actually gives me a sense of relief to hear that - thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying this and I certainly hope you like the rest!_

_SparkyCSI - hey girl! Yeah, I went back and added things (:p) I'm resending an email to you shortly - your chapters and a couple more of mine for you!_

_So, some of this was beta'd by the wonderful SparkyCSI, but me being me, changed things. So the mistakes are mine!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Three: Brown Eyed Girl**

The following morning, we were leaving again, and still nothing had been mentioned about what had happened the previous night. I just sat quietly in the back of Dean's car, listening to whichever tape Dean had put in. I caught him glancing at me in the rear-view mirror, but he didn't say anything.

Finally, I broke the silence. 'What happened?'

'Annie, drop it,' Dean said.

I ignored the warning tone in his answer and pressed again. 'Dean, they were claw marks.'

'Annie, we are not going to have this conversation,' Dean responded again.

'Well I think maybe we should, because the last thing I want is to find out who I am and then be arrested for being an accessory to something.'

'You're not an accessory,' Sam sighed, swinging around in his seat so that he was facing him.

'No? Well do you want to explain to me why your brother came home dripping in blood last night?'

Sam bit his lip and glanced at Dean.

'Sammy, don't even think about it,' Dean growled, his voice heavy with the warning tones he had used on me.

Sam stared at his brother and then took a deep breath, 'what if I told you everything you saw on TV wasn't exactly made up?'

I went flying into the window as Dean braked and swerved off the road to an abrupt halt.

'Dean, what the hell are you doing?' Sam roared.

'What the hell am _I_ doing? What the hell are _you_ doing?' Dean shouted back at him. 'We agreed that we weren't going to bring her into our life unless it was absolutely and completely necessary!'

'I think last night _made_ it necessary,' Sam retorted.

As I nursed my head, listening, there and then I made the decision I should have made a long time ago. I got out of the car and started walking. Admittedly, I had gone four paces before both of the brothers were out of the car chasing after me.

'Where are you going?' Sam asked as he came to a halt in front of me, his voice almost drowned out by the thunder which was grumbling loudly above us.

'I don't know, Sam, but I can't stay here with you anymore.'

'Annie, just get back in the car,' Dean told me with a half scowl.

'I think it would be better if I didn't,' I told him.

'Annie, get back in the car,' he repeated, with a hint of threat in his tone.

'Or what?' I asked him, 'are you going to shoot me?'

'What are you talking about?' Sam asked, looking genuinely surprised that I could ask such a question.

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling scared. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. 'Never mind,' I muttered as I tried to step around him.

'Lisa,' he said questioningly, as he grabbed my arm, 'please, stop and talk to us.'

I stared down at the hand on me before following it up to his face. 'Talk to you about what?' I asked, hating myself for the numbness in my voice. 'Talk to you about the lie of a life I have been living for the past month, or talk about the lies you've been feeding me, Sam? Or should I be calling you Agent Collins?'

Sam dropped my arm like I was on fire.

'How do you know about that?' Dean snapped at me. Without giving me a chance to answer, he turned to Sam, 'how did she find out about that?'

'It was in his jacket pocket,' I sighed in answer where Sam could only shrug. 'I grabbed the jacket when I went to the store last night.'

Sam stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out the ID and the gun, swearing softly.

The second I saw the gun, I took a couple of steps backwards, my hands in the air, 'look, I'm sorry I asked about everything,' I gushed, suddenly feeling very scared. 'I just feel like my life is a giant question. I wanted something to make sense.'

'Annie,' Dean started, taking a step towards me.

I quickly took another couple backwards, 'I don't care what you guys are doing. Just leave me here. I won't tell anyone anything – I don't even know anything about myself!'

'We're hunters,' Sam said.

'Uh-huh,' I nodded, trying to make it seem like I actually believed him.

'No, we are,' Dean agreed, 'but the type of hunter that you're thinking of. We hunt evil.'

'Evil?' I repeated, cursing myself for not keeping my voice even.

'Not evil, so much as demons and monsters. Vampires and werewolves. The things you see in the horror movies.'

'Monsters?' Okay, these two were even crazier than I thought.

'Annie, take a look at this,' Dean shot at me as he pulled his jacket off and rolled up his sleeve, unwrapping the bandage that Sam had put on the wound last night. 'Have a look at this and tell me what you honestly think caused it.'

I stared at the wound which was only just beginning to scab over. And then I turned and ran.

I had no idea where we were, or where we had been going, other than we had been driving along some back road in the middle of nowhere Delaware. It didn't matter as I charged off the road and into the forest which had been on either side of the road for miles.

The mist that had been plaguing us for as long as I could remember was even reaching through the forest. I didn't have a clue where I was, but I figured that the mist meant that Sam and Dean wouldn't be able to follow me as easily. I glanced over my shoulder to check, and I couldn't see either of them. And since I wasn't looking where I was going, I didn't see the root in front of me. I tripped and began careering head over heels down a banking, coming to rest at the base of a statue.

I lay there, staring up at the moss covered stone, groaning. The last time my body felt this pain ridden was, well, the first day I can remember. I pushed myself up into an upright and sitting position, staring at the statue. It was a raven. The strongest feeling of deja-vu flooded over me – I didn't even notice that Dean and Sam had found me until they joined me at my side.

'Lisa? Are you alright?' Sam was at my side in an instant, trying to check me for serious injury. Instead, I stared past him, up at the bird.

'What's the matter?' Dean asked.

'I know this,' I said slowly.

'You remember something?' Sam asked me, as Dean walked over to the statue.

I barely heard his question as I instead rose to my feet and walked past him, past Dean, past the statue and into the woods behind. Something inside of me was guiding me. I wasn't sure what – I didn't have a clue where I was, but at the same time, I knew I was going the right way.

'Where are you going?' I could hear Sam call as he hurried to catch up with me. 'Lisa?'

He practically walked into me as I stopped suddenly. I had come to a clearing, and in the middle was a large house – something which looked like it had been built during the civil war.

'Whoa!' Dean exclaimed as he caught up and saw what we were staring at.

'What is this place?' Sam asked me.

'I'm not sure,' I told him, 'but I know it.' I wasn't making much sense, I know. But _it_ didn't make sense.

The large house seemed deserted and empty, and yet, it seemed like up until recently, there had been life in it. I took a few steps towards it but was stopped by Sam grabbing my arm. I turned and stared at him through the pouring rain.

'Let us go in there first – it might not be safe.'

'Why? Are you going to shoot whatever is in there?' I asked breaking free of his grasp and running over and up under the porch, out of the rain.

I tried the door, but it was locked, and that was when Sam and Dean joined me outside the door.

'What did you mean by that?' Dean demanded.

I shrugged at him, 'Nothing.' By now, I had all but forgotten about how I had come to find this place. I bent down and pulled back a loose board. I don't know how I knew to do that, but behind it was a key. And it fitted the lock. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and walked in.

I stepped in and let out a huge gasp. The first thing I saw an enormous portrait of… me. Except I had brown eyes.

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_Hey all, thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying this little creation of mine!! (:p)_


	4. Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?

_Many thanks to the wonderful SparkyCSI for being my beta! (:D)_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Four: Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?**

'What the hell?' I heard Dean muttering behind me as he saw the picture.

The 'me' in the portrait was wearing something that looked like a cross between a medieval dress and a modern one. Which seems completely contradictory, but I have no idea how else to describe it. It was long and plum coloured, like something I'd expect Maid Marian to wear, except it was low cut, and had bits cut out on the sides, revealing my ribs and a lot of my stomach.

'Winter,' said Sam.

I turned and he pointed to the plaque underneath it, which indeed read _Winter_.

'So, you're name's Winter?'

'I… I don't think so,' I told him. I was so confused. It was me, and yet, whilst the name sounded familiar, it didn't seem like it was mine.

And if I thought my mind was ready to implode at that point, it was nothing compared to how it felt when I went upstairs.

I was walking on autopilot through the obviously deserted manor house, Sam and Dean close behind. Whereas they were drinking in the décor and various pictures and ornaments adorning the walls, I was heading to the far end of the east wing.

The last door had _Winter _carved into the wood of the door, surrounded by what looked like holly. I pushed the door open and walked into what I could only describe as a princess' room. It was enormous, with a huge four poster bed complete with drapes, elegant (although now dusty) furniture, and the biggest set of windows with closed drapes. I flicked the light on and the room burst into light.

All around, I was surrounded by paintings of me. The room was also a mess. There were clothes all over the floor, bed and chairs, make-up and perfume strewn across the vanity unit, and empty bottles of wine and boxes of chocolate on every available empty space on drawer surfaces.

I leant over and picked up various items of clothing – dresses, short skirts, skimpy tops – all like the dress in the first portrait. Modern medieval. As I picked up some really skimpy underwear I came to one conclusion, something which, judging from Dean's sniggering he had picked up on too. 'I'm a trashy whore.'

'Is anything coming back to you?' Sam asked.

I was part way through shaking my head at him when I stopped. This didn't seem familiar, and yet, one thing had sprung to mind. I moved over to the bed and pulled off one of the whorish dresses from the foot of it. At the bottom, engraved in the wood, was a symbol – the same one tattooed on my back.

Behind me, Sam let out a small gasp.

'I don't think this is your room,' Dean said slowly.

I dropped the dress and turned. He was pointing to a small photograph on a shelf. I walked over to it, ignoring the items all over the floor and looked at the photo with me. As my eyes rested on it, part of this whole scenario made sense. And I knew that I was in the wrong room.

I left that room, breaking into a run as I charged back down the corridor, past the stairs and into the west wing. Right at the end, mirroring the other door was another, this one with _Summer_ engraved into it, surrounded by ivy. I was tracing the words with my fingers when Sam and Dean arrived.

'Summer?' Dean smirked. 'Well, that's not too clichéd.'

I shot him a glare and pushed the door open. The room I walked into was very different to the last one. It was… empty. There was very little in the way of it being personal. No photos, no portraits, nothing on the floor, a plain, modest bed. The wardrobe, on closer inspection held an interesting array of clothing, similar to what was strewn across the last room, and also, a second set of clothes. Mainly jeans and various baby-t's – but they definitely felt like mine.

And yet, there was still something missing.

'Summer?' Sam asked tentatively.

'Yeah,' I replied, realising as I turned that I was answering to Summer.

'What is this place?'

'I don't know,' I told him. I frowned, 'I think its home.' I walked over to the windows and pulled back the drapes. As I stared out, into the surrounding woods, through the still swirling mist, I had what I can only describe as a flashback – of a tree. And suddenly, I knew exactly where that tree was.

There was one similarity between the two bedrooms, and that was an enormous fireplace. I walked over to mine and stepped into it, pushing back on one of the bricks. There was a whirring sound and the back of the fireplace slid away, revealing a set of steps downwards.

'Now what?' I could hear Dean muttering behind me as I stepped in and followed the steps downwards. They were right behind me as I opened the door at the bottom and stepped back outside into the mist. The door slammed shut behind us, only, when I looked back, there was no door there – only the bricks.

Following the gut feeling I had, I walked back into the forest, and further away from where the car was, until, after wading through a small steam, ignoring Dean's complaints about ruining another pair of boots, I came face to face with my tree.

It was a colossal oak tree with one of the thickest trunks I had ever seen.

'You brought us out here for a tree?' Dean was complaining.

I stepped up to it and placed my hand on the bark. There was a flash of light in which we were bathed, and as it faded away, a small door had been left.

Behind me, both Sam and Dean were sharing their surprise.

'Are you coming in?' I asked them as I opened the door.

'Is it safe?' Sam asked.

'Only one way to find out,' I shrugged at him, stepping in.

The inside was lit by hundreds of little candles – more questions: _why wasn't the tree on fire, who had lit them, and how long had they been burning for?_

And yet, as I walked in, I finally felt a sense of familiarity. The room was big – bigger than the trunk was, like it was magic, and it had several comfy looking chairs in, and was covered from floor to ceiling in shelves of books and trinkets.

'What the hell is this place?' Dean asked in disbelief.

'Its home,' I told him, knowing that I was right.

'There is no way this room can fit into this tree. It's not physically possible,' Sam was muttering in disbelief.

I was about to tell him that it was just one of the many questions I couldn't answer, when my sight fell on something sparkling in the candle light. I walked over and picked it up – a delicate necklace, a heart shaped silver locket. I opened it up, and as I stared at the two pictures inside everything came flooding back.

_It was my twenty-first birthday and I was in my bedroom getting changed into one of the dresses I despised for the party. Not my party, of course. No the party was for my twin sister, Winter – the High Priestess._

_Like our names, Winter and I were complete opposites. She was bossy, loud and controlling. Me, I preferred to be alone, reading, writing in my Book of Shadows, and being outdoors. And wearing anything but the ridiculous dresses she insisted our coven wear. Normally, I could escape to my tree in my jeans, but for occasions such as this, there was no questioning it. I was to wear this hideous dress. _

_Today's had been chosen by Winter herself. It was silver, with black velvet ivy, long sleeves which flared at the ends, floor length skirt – that part didn't really bother me. It was the fact that it was so low cut it was barely decent, and that was more like a skirt and top with the gaping holes at my stomach and back._

_I left my room and headed outside to where our celebrations were already underway. The other eleven girls, all around our age, were already forming a circle around the fire, which I joined, holding hands with Willow and April, joining in with the chanting – thanking the Goddess for the our blessings._

_I had become so transfixed on the chanting that I didn't even notice Winter had joined us until we had finished._

_Across the flames she smiled at me, and I knew there and then something was wrong._

_I was right. With a flick of her hand, someone appeared, bound tightly in ropes, gagged, bleeding and completely petrified. It was Marcus. My Marcus._

_I hadn't meant to go against the laws of the coven, and when I first met Marcus, I never, _never_ expected that only months later I would fall head over heels in love with him, but it had happened. I was walking in the woods, talking to the birds and trees when I stumbled across him. Literally. He had been walking in the woods himself and lay down for a nap._

_And from there, it was, as you say, history. We would meet everyday in the woods. It started off with talking, and the talking grew to kissing and the kissing grew to… well, you get the picture._

_He knew almost everything about me. Except the fact that I was a witch. I was going to tell him, after the party, after I told my sister that I was leaving._

_But there he was, standing opposite, staring at me with fear in his eyes._

_It was clear from the look in Winter's eyes that she had pretended to be me and it made me feel sick._

* * *

Okay, so I hope things are starting to make sense now?! Don't worry - there will be more Sam and Dean... I just needed to explain things.


	5. Here In Your Arms

_SparkyCSI - I seem to be working crazy hours these days (I can't seem to get out of the uni!) so I'm only online at work, which for the most part, is when you're asleep! And I'm really curious about what you have to say about Winter!_

_Beta'd by the wonderful SparkyCSI!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Five: Here (In Your Arms)**

I awoke with a scream, sitting bolt upright, and tears streaming down my face. Ignoring Sam and Dean, who I had clearly scared, I leapt to my feet, ran out of my tree and into the rain, trying to fight the waves of nausea that were washing over me.

It was a battle I didn't win, and soon I was bent over with one of the brothers rubbing my back as I heaved the contents of my stomach back up.

Weak, I stumbled a few steps away and sank to my knees, still sobbing. Around me, it rained harder, thunder and lighting joining the equation, and it was probably this which forced Sam to scoop me up and carry me back into the house.

I was carried up to my room and wrapped up in a slightly musty smelling blanket on my bed. A short time later, Dean appeared carrying three mugs of steaming coffee, one of which he handed over to me as Sam busied himself with lighting a fire.

When it was finally lit, he came and sat on the end of my bed. I could feel his eyes boring into me as I watched the steam from my coffee curl upwards. But it was Dean who spoke first.

'Summer? What happened?'

'I… I had a dream – a flashback,' and I proceeded to tell them what I had remembered.

'So you _are_ a witch, then?' Said Dean, as more of a statement that a question.

'You knew?' I asked him, forcing the words out of my mouth.

'Not until I saw the symbol in the bed,' Sam assured me, indicating to the star that was also in my bed head.

I nodded and ran my fingers through my hair. 'I don't remember anything else after that point, though.'

'It will come back to you,' Sam told me, placing his hand reassuringly on my knee.

I stared at his hand then followed it up to his eyes. The one thing I really appreciated about Sam was his eyes. It didn't matter what he said, his eyes would tell you exactly what he was thinking – it made him a terrible liar. But at that moment, I felt safe. I gave him a small smile.

'Now, witches aren't exactly my forte,' Dean interrupted my thoughts, 'but I thought the golden rule was not to take another's life.'

'Don't you think I know that,' I snapped at him, trying desperately not to let the tears that were burning my eyes escape.

'I think maybe we should call it a night and get some rest,' Sam said after shooting a quick glare at Dean. I nodded my agreement.

Hours later, both Sam and Dean were curled up asleep. We'd opted for staying in what was my room, but the guys had brought various pieces of furniture into the room so that they could have something to sleep on.

I'd managed to catch a couple of hours but truth be told, there was no way I could sleep now. My mind felt like a balloon and someone was pumping the memories back into me so quickly that I thought it might explode. I glanced over at Dean. He was stretched out on his stomach, snoring softly. One hand by his face, the other under the pillow on whichever weapon he'd decided to go to sleep with. Sam was curled up, lying so still that for a moment I wasn't sure that he was alive until he rolled over onto his over side.

I pulled back the covers and slipped out of my bed. Closing the door quietly behind me, I walked downstairs and into the library. The place looked like someone had ransacked it. It was probably Winter before she left, taking whatever valuables with her that she needed. Inside the house, this place was my sanctuary. Now, it was just an empty room.

I headed straight for the window and curled up on the window seat, staring out across the grounds to the trees in the distance, watching the rain continue to fall heavily. As I pulled out the locket and stared at the pictures of me and Marcus I realised that now I had nothing and nowhere to go. Whilst one set of questions had been answered, they had created another batch which I still needed the solution to.

'Summer?'

I looked up at Sam who was standing all watery looking in the doorway. It took me a moment to realise that I had been crying again before I wiped the tears away.

'You had me worried,' he said softly as he walked over.

'Sorry,' I apologised. 'I couldn't sleep.'

'I figured as much, but you shouldn't be alone. It's not safe,' he sat down next to me and looked over at the locket. 'I know how you feel.'

'How could you possibly know how I feel,' I spat, leaping to my feet. 'Are you telling me that your brother killed your girlfriend right in front of you?'

Sam sighed and got to his feet, 'Summer…'

'No Sam, I watched as the guy I loved was gutted in front of me. I saw the betrayal in his eyes,' I yelled at him. My voice was getting so high pitched Sam probably wouldn't be able to understand me but I didn't care.

Sam, bless him, tried to calm me down. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me, but I lost it and started hitting out at him, hitting out at Winter, at everything that had happened that I had done nothing to stop. 'No Sam, I don't think you do know how I feel.'

Instead of saying anything, Sam just held me tighter until I was too exhausted to struggle, at which point we slumped back to the chair, whilst he made the appropriate shushing noises as he stroked my hair.

A while later and the sun was rising before I had finally calmed down. I was leaning against Sam's chest, listening to his heartbeat as I lay curled up in his arms. It hit me then, that the place I felt safe, despite everything I didn't know about them, was with Sam and Dean. Two people who I didn't know who had taken me into their lives and gone out of their way to help me. I didn't know what on earth I was going to do when it came time for them to leave.

Sam was so quiet that I thought he had fallen asleep. 'I guess this is one way to make sure I don't wander off again,' I sighed into his chest.

'No,' he whispered back, 'I just wanted to make sure you were okay.'

'Not really,' I told him.

'So this is where you two are,' Dean's voice carried loudly across the room. I would have fallen out off of Sam if it wasn't for him holding tightly to me. 'You're a little jumpy,' he laughed at me.

Sam shot me an apologetic look before focusing his attention on Dean, 'Dean.'

'Morning Sammy. Sleep well?'

'It's Sam,' Sam told him through gritted teeth, not commenting on the obvious undertones the last statement held.

Feeling awkward and embarrassed, I climbed down and watched the two brothers as they began their morning ritual of bickering. My attention soon switched to the room and the books, or more precisely, the lack thereof.

'Summer,' said Sam, quickly putting the attention back on me, 'this room is a mess.'

I shrugged, 'nothing to do with me. The girls must have taken what they needed before they left.'

'What's missing?' Dean asked me as he scanned the room.

'Just some minor spell books. Conjuring, communication – that kind of thing. There was nothing really dangerous.' Suddenly, something occurred to me. 'Oh my goddess,' I muttered, running over to one of the gaping holes in the bookshelves.

'Summer?'

I ignored Sam and began hunting through the piles of the books on the floor, searching for the one book I knew I wasn't going to find. Wishing I had been wrong I turned back to the brothers. 'We have a major problem.'

'Summer, what's wrong?' Dean asked me, all business.

'The Magiks des Mortis,' I managed to blurt out.

'What the hell is that?'

'It's a book. A very important book. I mean, it's not possible. The spells in it… it's black magic,' I said, stumbling over my own sentences.

'You do realise that you're not making any sense now, don't you?' Dean asked me, looking somewhat bemused and confused.

I took a deep breath, 'it's a very old book. We only keep it so that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. We should have burnt it,' I muttered, shaking my head. ''In it is the oldest magiks. In theory you could create some pretty powerful spells, but you'd have to have the magic in you to start with. But the other spells in there. It explores the ideas of immortality,' I finished.

'And how would one become immortal?' Dean asked, a look of worry washing his features.

I shook my head, 'I never really read the book properly, but it says something about taking life to extend life.'

'Do you think your sister is capable of something like that?' Dean asked me.

I shrugged, looking straight at him, 'She's already killed once.'

* * *

_So I have come to the conclusion that silence is good!_


	6. Dirty Little Secret

_SparkyCSI - I know that feeling. I've felt it far too many times when watching the show (:c)_

_Okely Dokely, many thanks to the wonderful SparkyCSI for being my beta!_

_

* * *

_

**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Six: Dirty Little Secret**

'Summer, you have to tell us everything you know,' Dean urged me.

I opened my mouth, about to tell him everything, when I stopped. 'No.'

'No?' he repeated, looking dumbly at me.

'No,' I confirmed. 'I mean, I will, but you two have to talk to me.' I took a deep breath and looked out of the window. 'I just need answers. Before my mind explodes.' I turned my attention back to the two brothers and stared straight at them. 'Please.'

''You think this place has any food that's good enough to eat?' Dean asked me.

I blinked at him, 'Huh?'

'Because if I let Sam tell you everything, it's gonna take forever. And I'm starving.'

I shrugged. 'I doubt it,' I told him impatiently, wanting to hear everything.

Dean grinned, 'Well, I guess we're going out for breakfast.'

My mouth dropped open in disbelief, but as I was about to start my protests at Dean's back as he walked out of the room, Sam interrupted me.

'It's a battle you're not going to win. Nothing will get between Dean and his stomach.'

---------------------------

A time later, which felt like Dean had been out and hunted the food itself, rather than have a greasy looking chef called Bert do the honours, we were sitting in a small diner. At some point between waking up and coming to find Sam and I, Dean had been back to his car and brought it around to the house, so all that was left was to pile in and drive to the nearest café. Except the first two weren't open and the third was out of bacon.

Sam had ordered a bowl of cornflakes; I wasn't hungry and had gone for a cup of coffee, whilst Dean had ordered bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage, grits, cornbread… the works. And presently, he was shovelling it into his mouth.

'Yoo shore yoo don wan aneetin?' Dean asked me, his mouth full a bit of everything on his plate.

Opposite him, I sat transfixed, watching his washing machine of a mouth.

'Dude, was that in English?' Sam asked, turning to stare at his brother in disbelief.

Dean shot a glare at Sam, indicated to my barely touched cup of coffee before taking a mouthful of it. 'ah seh,' he swallowed, 'are you sure you don't want anything?'

I shook my head. 'I'm not hungry.'

Dean shrugged and flagged down a waitress, 'Hi again,' he greeted her with a bright, flirty smile. 'Would it be possible to get some toast?'

'I said I'm not hungry,' I muttered at him as the waitress walked away, shooting glances over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.

Dean sent one last smile at the waitress before turning back to face me. 'Who said anything about the toast being for you?'

I frowned. Not because I was surprised – I'd eaten with Dean before and it was always the same story. He could eat enough for the three of us, usually in less time for me and Sam to finish eating, as well. No, it was more out of frustration that I still hadn't been told anything.

'We hunt evil,' Sam started, sensing the fact that my temper was about to explode.

'I've heard this story,' I muttered, 'monsters and demons.'

'You're a witch, and you find _that_ difficult to explain?' Dean scoffed.

I glared at him, 'For the record, being a witch is more about being in tune with nature that it is about magic.'

'But there is magic,' Dean pressed.

'Yes, but-'

'I rest my case.'

'Something tells me you weren't destined to be a lawyer.'

'Nope,' Dean agreed happily as the waitress returned, placing a plate of toast in front of him. 'That would be Sam.'

I snapped my head around to take a good look at Sam. 'How on earth does someone go from writing depositions, to,' I dropped my voice as the waitress seemed to be hovering around near the table opposite, 'to hunting,' I paused, feeling stupid as I said it, 'demons?'

'It's a long story which isn't really important,' Sam told me quickly, ignoring the look Dean was giving him, 'but the important thing is that demons do exist.'

'Alright,' I said slowly, 'let's just say… let's just say that I believe you, and these things do exist, what the hell did that?' I pointed to the bandage that was poking through the bottom of Dean's sleeve. 'And why are you both hunting it?'

'It was a Drekavac,' said Dean, turning his attention away from the waitress and back to me.

'A what?'

'A Drekavac,' Dean repeated. 'Looks like a dog crossed with a kangaroo. Kills people by luring them into a trap in the shape of a child.'

'And how do you kill it?' I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

'I found that the shotgun worked best,' Dean told me, matter-of-factly, before he turned his attention to the pile of toast.

I turned and stared out of the window. Whilst the rain had eased up ever-so slightly, and it wasn't exactly windy outside, it seemed restless. I turned back to Sam, 'So why you? Why do you hunt these… things? I mean, I thought you were a lawyer?'

'I had just gotten into law school,' Sam corrected me.

'Fine,' I sighed, 'but still, why you two?'

'It's not just us. Our father hunts too.'

I frowned – they'd never mentioned any other family. I had just assumed that their parents were both at home somewhere, believing that their kids had normal jobs somewhere.

'Our mother was killed by a demon,' Sam told me, his voice so quiet that I barely heard him. 'We've been tracking it, following clues that our father left us,' he sighed. 'Our father caught a lead and disappeared some time ago.'

I looked down, suddenly finding my empty cup of coffee very interesting.

'Is there anything else you need to know?' Dean asked, breaking my intense study of the crack in my mug.

'No,' I told him, looking up. 'No, wait, yes. Why do you have ID's telling me you're FBI agents?'

Dean shrugged, 'Helps us get into morgues and police reports.'

'Morgues?' I repeated, feeling my stomach churn. 'Why would you…?'

'We have to know how people died if we want to work out what actually killed them,' Dean explained as calmly as one would if they were explaining the facts of life to a child. 'Next question?'

I shook my head, 'Nothing else, yet.'

'Good,' said Dean, waiting for the waitress to clear away our plates. 'Because it's now your turn.'

I nodded and waited for the first question.

'How many of you are there in your little group?'

'Coven.'

'Huh?' Now it was Dean's turn to look confused.

'They're a coven,' Sam explained for me. 'Not a _little group_.'

'Whatever,' said Dean, with a waft of his hand. 'How many of you are there in your _coven_?'

'Including me, thirteen. Winter's the High Priestess.'

'Their leader,' Sam explained at Dean's blank expression.

'Can you do magic?' Dean asked me.

'I've told you, being a witch is not about doing magic,' I cried in exasperation.

'Maybe not, but can you do magic?'

I leant back against the back of my chair and sighed, shutting my eyes. When I opened them, it took Dean two seconds longer in mimicking Sam, their mouths hanging open.

'Your eyes,' Dean managed as he did a pretty good impression of a fish.

'Yeah,' I can do magic,' I confirmed quietly, changing the colour of my eyes back to their original green from the brown that I had just changed them to. 'But nothing major,' I added quickly. I can change my image – the colour of my hair and eyes; I can levitate small objects,' I glanced out of the window and sighed, 'And I think I have something to do with the fact it hasn't stopped raining since I got my memory back.'

'And you call that nothing major?' Dean asked me in disbelief.

I shook my head, 'Not really. I never really took an interest in it. Well, maybe weather control, but even then, I think that I don't actually have any control over that control – like the weather just matches my mood, you know? I've told you. Being a witch-'

'Isn't about doing magic,' Dean finished for me. 'I get it. You don't like magic. But that isn't what concerns me. What about your sister?'

I leant back again, shut my eyes, and exhaled slowly. 'She,' I bit my lip. 'She's into the magic.'

'How did you become a witch?' Sam asked me quietly.

I looked at him and sighed, 'you don't _become_ a witch. You are one. It's part of you – a way of life.' I frowned, trying to remember when I knew I was one. 'I guess it was my sister who I can thank for that. I mean, I didn't know that the emptiness in my life was because I was missing the Wicca, and I didn't know that until we joined the coven.'

'What about your parents?'

I shrugged, 'They died when I was little. I don't really remember them. Winter says she does, but she's four minutes older than me, so I guess she doesn't really. We were in the system until we were seventeen, and then Winter found the coven and we ran away. I guess the authorities were a little preoccupied because nobody came after us.'

I waited for the waitress – Paige (I had finally spotted her badge… or maybe she had just put it on for Dean's benefit) to refill our mugs with coffee, before I continued. 'The then High Priestess, Rain, took us in and for the first time in ages I felt happy. When she died, it was Winter who took her place, and she started doing a great job. But less than a year later, things had changed. She was no longer… she took more interesting in the magical side of Wicca. Hence the stupid dresses which we wore for the stupid ceremonies. I figured it was just her way of testing the water. Until our twenty first birthday when she kil…' I faltered then, trying to keep the sob at bay in the back of my throat.

'Is that when she cast the memory spell on you?' Sam asked me gently.

'No,' I sighed, 'I did that.'

'Why?'

'If your girlfriend was killed in front of you, wouldn't you want to wipe all trace of that memory from your mind?' I shot at Sam. He looked guilty, turning to look out of the window. Dean was about to say something to me, but I stopped him before he could. 'Look, I just wanted to forget, but like I told you, I don't really do the magic. It didn't work properly – it took away just about everything other than my basic motor skills.'

Dean opened his mouth to speak – probably to tell me off for my comment to Sam – but this time it was Sam who cut him off. 'Tell us about the Magiks des Mortis.'

'I can't really tell you much about it. It was in the coven before Rain was High Priestess. All I know is that the coven, several generations ago, took it from the hands of one who had been using it for the wrong reasons, and we'd been protecting it since. Most of the time, it had lived with Rain, and then Winter. It was only because I was in Winter's room that I saw it. I glanced over the contents before she noticed me reading and took it away. From what Rain said about it, it was dangerous in the wrong hands. It takes someone of great power to perform any of the magiks in it, and it was full of dark magic – spells to prevent death, spells to kill….'

'And you think Winter might be trying to do some of this magic?' Dean asked me.

'I hope not,' I told him, glumly, knowing that I might as well have been asking the world to stop spinning.

* * *

_Well, thanks for continuing to read, and I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am writing it!_


	7. Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

_Many thanks to SparkyCSI for being my wonderful beta!_

* * *

**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Seven: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

'Anything?'

We'd gone back to the house having decided that maybe there would be some clue as to where Winter and the rest of the coven had gone. I pulled myself out from underneath Winter's bed and shrugged, 'too many sets of dirty underwear, two boxes of what would have once been pizza but is now probably not far away from crawling, and several items that will send your mind into an x-rated frenzy,' I told Dean. 'My sister is a slob. How about you?'

Dean had been checking the rooms of the other girls whilst Sam had been downstairs looking through the books in the library. He shook his head, 'enough to know that you weren't the only one breaking a few rules by having a boyfriend, but nothing that's can tell us where they've headed.'

'Maybe this is pointless. Maybe they just decided to go on a vacation,' I suggested, hoping that if Dean could agree then maybe the idea wasn't that crazy.

'Maybe,' he said, but his tone said, _as if!_

I let out a cry of frustration and swept the items left on Winter's bed onto the floor. 'We may as well be looking for a needle in a haystack.'

'Lets get out of here,' said Dean.

I nodded in agreement. This house was depressing me far too much.

'Go pack anything that you need or want. We'll meet you at the car.'

I gave him a grateful smile and headed to the west wing. I walked into my room and looked around. Truth be told, there was nothing. I thrust a couple of items of clothing into a duffle bag and turned to leave. I stopped at the door and changed my mind, heading for the fireplace. I followed the path down and out and retraced my footsteps through the rain to my tree. Inside, the candles were still burning brightly, illuminating the room that was far too big for the tree.

As I glanced around the room, my eyes fell on the spot where I had found the locket. Like the tree was a concealed room, the locket had been resting on a concealed cupboard. I walked over and opened it. It was full of things from my past – things I didn't care to look through at that point. But at the back, there was a book. It was fat, bound in fading leather, the text printed in gold. I opened it and leafed through. Inside was written in what looked like Latin, but as it was handwritten and the book felt important to me, I assumed it was my diary. I stuffed it into my bag, along with the small box it had been sat on, and left.

There was no one at the car then I got there although it was unlocked. I headed to the back and popped the trunk to sling my bag in. As I did so, it caught my locket and pulled it from my neck and it fell from my neck and into the car, under the bags already there. I swore, sticking my hand in. My hand didn't grab the necklace, so I shifted some bags around and finally spotted it, twinkling at me from underneath the floor of the car.

'Great,' I muttered, pulling at the handle so the bottom and carpet pulled away. My mouth dropped open in surprised as I found my necklace sitting on, well, an arsenal. There were guns, knives, ammo… even a nasty looking sword. Hearing Sam and Dean's bickering voices come floating through the house, I dropped the lid to the secret compartment, yanked my bag out and hurriedly shut the trunk, darting around to the side of the car.

Dean was staring suspiciously at me as he approached, but he didn't say anything.

'Can I take that off you?' Sam asked me, automatically reaching for my bag. It hit me then – why Sam was always the gentlemen. He just didn't want me stumbling across things I shouldn't. I shook my head, snatching my bag out of the way. I'll hang on to it,' I told him, maybe a little too sharply. I caught the two sharing a look as I got into the car, but neither of them said anything.

I curled up in the corner and soon we were on the way. My head was pounding, I mean I knew they had a gun… but that many? All the crosses, the knives… I let out an involuntary sigh and turned to rest my head against the cool of the window. They were both watching me. I kept sensing Dean's eyes in the rear view mirror, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sam watching me in the wing mirror. I focused on the window in front of me, watching it steam up as I breathed on it, listening to Dean's choice of music – I didn't know who it was and I didn't care – it was just something to focus on.

Some hours later we eventually pulled over at a gas station. 'You want something?' Sam asked me as Dean started to fill the car.

I shook my head and watched him walk into the station. I pulled the book out of the bag and started leafing through it. There were about eight different types of hand writing there, and it all seemed to be in Latin – I wasn't one hundred percent certain about that though. I sat there, trying to read the pages, certain that one of the writings were my own and that I should know the translations. Finally, as the daylight disappeared, I decided to give up. I settled back into the corner and glared at the book. It was clear that there were still things that I couldn't remember and it was highly frustrating.

Eventually, we pulled off the road and into a motel which looked like the setting of some horror movie. I waited outside whilst Dean sorted out the room, letting the wind whistle around me as I watched the rain continue to fall. I followed Dean and Sam to the room when he had eventually gotten the key, and Dean walked in, crashing fully clothed on one of the twin beds.

'You take a bed,' I told Sam – my first words since we'd left my house. He'd been on the way to the table to set up his usual camp there.

He frowned, 'I'm fine.'

'Look,' I told him, 'I really don't think there's any chance that I'm going to get any sleep. You might as well take the comfy option.'

'Summer, you should try and sleep.'

'If I get tired, I'll sleep in the car.'

He looked a little concerned, but nodded wearily, 'fine. But if you feel yourself wanting to sleep, wake me up and we can swap.'

I nodded, even though I knew it wasn't going to happen and watched him settle down on the bed. He must have been exhausted because he was out like a light.

I settled down at the small table and pulled the box from my bag, figuring that now I could finally investigate its contents. The box was like the tree: it was about as big as the book as, and yet it was filled with candles of all shapes, sizes and colours; ribbons in different lengths and fabrics; incense; a collection of pouches and vials, all labelled in the same language and handwriting from the book. And tucked up in a corner was a set of index cards.

I pulled them out and flicked through them, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a smile crept across my face: they were basically contents pages for the book. A book of spells. My eyes lingered on one of them. I glanced over at the brothers and bit my lip. There was no way in hell I was about to attempt that one with them in the room. Instead, I pulled the book out of the bag and headed to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind me.

From the bottom of the box, I pulled out a map of the world and spread it out on the floor, sitting cross legged in front of it. I surrounded myself with tall white candles, then surrounded the map in small green ones. At which point I realised that the box didn't contain any matches. I knew that Dean always carried a lighter in his pocket, but I knew he had also fallen asleep with his jeans on. Feeling disheartened already, I flicked through the index cards until another spell jumped out of me.

I turned to the relevant page of the book. It was a one word spell. 'Lihtan.' The second the word left my lips, the candles burst into life. My jaw hit the floor. I mean, I know it was a spell, and I know I could managed some magic, but these candles, and there must have been a good twenty of them, all alighted at once, their flames a good inch tall.

I quickly shook the thought from my head and turned back to the other page I had the book open at. I had no idea how long the spell would take and the bathroom door didn't have a lock on it. Seriously – a motel bathroom with no lock?!

I read the brief instructions on the card before pulling a ring off my finger. It was Winter's. I'd found it in her bedroom when I'd been hunting under her bed for any clue as to where she was. I placed it in the centre of the map and closed my eyes, focusing on the image of my sister as I started to recite the incantation. As I repeated the incantation for the third time, I opened my eyes. As I did, it was if the flames of the seven green candles rose away from their wicks and hovered in the air, swirling around the map. They closed in to become one as they hovered above the ring, making it float up from the map. And then the light shot down, scorching a hole in the map.

'It worked,' I breathed, unsure as to whether or not I should have been happy at that realization. And then the room went haywire. The flames of the white candles surrounding me shot up so they were about three feet high – their flames quickly attaching themselves to the stained shower curtain. Almost simultaneously, the green light above the ring glowed brighter.

The ring which was jerking about in air suddenly turned on me, hurtling towards me like a bullet, lodging itself in my shoulder. As I screamed, the light which had been hovering above the ring shot out in all directions, almost as if it exploded, car alarms set off in all directions, and sending me backwards through the door.

I careered backwards, through the table, crashing on something soft. A bed. And a person. My head was still reeling as I felt something cold being thrust against my temple.

'Make one more move, and I pull the trigger,' Dean's voice was as cold and hard at the barrel of the gun.

With my head still swimming, all I could manage was a groan which turned into a coughing fit as the dust flew around the room.

'What the hell is going on?' Sam was on his feet, staring down at the pair of us.

I stared past him, watching the flames that were beginning to leave the confines of the shower curtain. 'Oh my goddess,' I gasped, making to try and head over.

Something clicked next to my ear and I froze.

'Not so fast,' Dean whispered in my ear.

'What the hell is going on?' Sam repeated.

'It was a spell,' I just about managed to burst out. 'It went wrong. I'm sorry.' Next to me, Dean made no effort to remove the gun. 'Please, it was an accident – I didn't mean to blow the room up.' With Dean behind me, all I could do was staring pleadingly up at Sam, silently begging him to get his brother to let me go.

Sam looked from me to the destroyed room, 'a spell to do what?'

'Find Winter,' I sobbed. My shoulder and head were killing me – the rest of me didn't feel that brilliant. And oh yeah, the gun was still boring into my skull.

Sam took one last look at me then nodded at his brother. There was a moment's pause and then the gun was removed. I pushed myself off Dean and practically collapsed on the floor as I tripped over the rubble that was in the room.

'Summer, we need to get out of here now!' Sam told me, making towards me. The room was filling up with smoke pretty quickly and I could just about make out the sound of sirens over the still wailing car alarms.

Ignoring them both a ran to the bathroom, grabbed the box and the book, my fingers just grasping the smoldering map as a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders. I let out another scream of pain as the fingers poked the edge of the ring-filled wound, only just managing to keep a hold of my things.

I was scooped up and carried outside, and all but thrown in the backseat of the Impala as Sam threw himself in beside me, Dean flying into the drivers seat.

We squealed out of the parking lot seconds before the fire engines and police cars pulled into the motel entrance. The red and blue lights flashing on the ceiling of the car were the last thing I saw before they were replaced with black.

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_SparkyCSI - I'm certain the site had been playing up again - but that's alright! I have more chapters - I'll send you them later today._

_Well, I hope y'all still like, and thank you for continuing to read!_


	8. Before The Goodbye

_SparkyCSI - It does! Only I have to write it! (:s)_

_The Corrupter - I have no intention of hooking Summer up with Sam. Or Dean, for that matter. Not in this story, anyway! But I'm glad you found this, and I'm glad you like!_

_Many thanks to SparkyCSI - my wonderful beta!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Eight: Before The Goodbye**

When I awoke, it was to the sound of hushed angry whispers. My head was throbbing and I couldn't even begin to describe the pain I felt in my shoulder.

'What are we doing here, Sam?'

'We had to stop somewhere.'

'No, not _here_. With her. What are we doing?'

'We're helping her.'

'With what? She knows who she is. She doesn't need us anymore.'

'We can't just abandon her, Dean.'

'Sam, we should never have picked her up.'

'Excuse me, but you're the one who said, "cool, semi-naked hot chick lying in the road".'

'I think I said "semi-naked _chick_". Nothing about her being hot, Sammy. And that's not the point. She nearly killed herself – she nearly killed _us_.'

'Dean, I don't think she did it intentionally! I just don't think she's aware of how powerful she is.'

Powerful? I wasn't powerful, I mean, come on. I could barely get my magic to work properly without it backfiring on me. Dean was right – I had nearly killed all of us. My throat was also dry and itchy, causing me to cough and give away the fact I wasn't actually asleep anymore.

'Summer?'

I sat upright, the coughing stopping me from releasing the cry of pain I so wanted to.

'Here,' Sam handed me a cup of water which I took and all but threw it down my throat.

'How are you feeling?' Dean asked me.

'Fine,' I told him coldly, shooting him a glare as I pushed myself up from the bed (only managing to wince at the pain in my arm) as I hobbled over to the bathroom.

'Summer?'

I shut the door to the sound of Dean's voice and locked it, leaning back against the door. Maybe it was time to go. I glanced over to the mirror, and then wished I hadn't. My face was filthy – covered in blood and soot, my hair was an interesting shade of grey… the only thing that was the color it was supposed to be was the stark white bandage over my left shoulder.

I turned the shower on and started to strip. Getting the bottom half of my clothing wasn't hard, but it was agony for my shirt and bra. Finally, I could step into the hot water, wincing as the water hit the various cuts I was covered in. I didn't stay in too long – the pressure of the water on my wounds didn't make for a particularly enjoyable experience.

I wrapped a towel around me and examined the clothes I had been wearing. Needn't have bothered – I flung them straight into the trash can. Slowly, I opened the bathroom door. 'Could someone pass me my bag, please?'

'You alright?' Sam asked me as he handed it over.

'I'm fine, thank you.' I took the bag and shut the door. All of the clothes in the bag reeked of smoke, but at least they were in one piece. Getting my bottom half dressed was just as easy as getting them off. The top half was impossible. 'The Goddess be Damned,' I cried in frustration, kicking the trash can and sending its contents all over the bathroom, as I finally accepted that I couldn't even fasten my own bra. I glared at myself in the mirror. If I was a witch, then why the hell didn't I know some spell to do this?

'Summer?' Sam's voice came through the door.

Giving the trash can one last kick, I opened the door slightly.

'You alright?' He repeated his question.

'Yes,' I snapped at him. 'No,' I admitted when he took a step back. Keeping myself behind the door, I opened it to allow Sam in, quickly shutting it. This was going to be embarrassing enough without Dean's input. 'I can't fasten my bra,' I mumbled as he turned around, holding the bra as tightly as I could to me.

Sam stared blankly at me.

I turned back to face the door and slammed my head against it, 'Great. Now I've got to get Dean in here.' My hand was hovering over the door handle, as I willed the floor to open up and swallow me. As I took a deep breath and lowered my hand, I ended up jumping with a squeal as I felt Sam's warm hands on my back. 'Thank you,' I whispered, turning and reaching for a blouse. But Sam was there, inspecting the bandages.

'Summer, these are soaking.'

'Kinda happens when you shower,' I shrugged, then winced.

'These need changing.'

I sighed and sat on the bathtub, 'fine.'

He left the room and came back in moments later, bandages in his hand.

I turned my head and shut my eyes, refusing to look at him as he replaced the bandages. There was no way in hell I was going through this again tomorrow.

When Sam had finished, he left without saying a word, and continued to dress. With a sigh, I scooped the up the contents of the trash can I had sent flying, and placed them back in the container.

When I walked back into the bedroom, I found Sam sitting at his laptop and Dean on one of the beds, watching something on the television. Feeling Dean watch me as I walked to the other bed, I refused to look at him, settled down and focused my attention on a small crack in the ceiling.

The pain in my shoulder was verging on unbearable, but the pain in my heart for Marcus was even greater. I wanted so much to be able to go back in time and rewrite what had happened. I lay awake for most of the night, replaying that night in my mind.

At sometime around three I left.

I think the previous night's activities had worn the boys out, because Sam was snoring softy with his head on the table. I knew I wouldn't have to worry about Dean – he wasn't waking any time soon if he could sleep in that position.

I quietly gathered my bag, making sure that the box, book and map were tucked safely in them, typed a quick note of thanks on Sam's open laptop, and walked out of the door. This was my problem – not theirs – and I didn't feel comfortable there anymore.

I headed to the road and flagged down the first passing semi. Although after my earlier encounter with a trucker hadn't gone too well, this time I was prepared with a little sleeping spell, just in case. The driver wound his window down and stuck his head out. 'Where you going?' he asked me.

I thought about the small scorch mark on the map and inwardly cringed at my sister's choice of location. 'Salem,' I told him.

-------------------------------------------

Sam awoke with a start. He'd been having a really random dream with witches flying on broomsticks, all wearing pointed hats and bikinis. He groaned loudly, rubbing his neck which had cramped thanks to the uncomfortable position he had slept in. Next time, Dean was taking the chair!

He rolled his eyes at the sight of his brother. If he could sleep with his head and one hand under the pillow, his other arm and leg hanging off the bed, then he could certainly sleep in the chair. Sam flicked his attention over to Summer's bed and frowned when he spotted it was empty. There was no noise coming from the bathroom, but that meant nothing when there was a woman in there.

Sam sighed and stared at the empty bed. Up until the night before, he had no doubt that Summer was, for intents and purposes, harmless. She had just gotten mixed up in something she shouldn't and there had, unfortunately, been some very serious consequences because of it. But when he had seen the burning bathroom, and the depth the ring had been imbedded in her shoulder, he knew that she wasn't far from being a danger herself. At least whilst she worked out what she was capable of, anyway.

He watched his brother sleep for a little while longer, and then Sam grabbed his laptop and pulled it over, ready to find a few more articles, which was when he spotted the open word document.

_Sam, Dean,_

_I just wanted to say thank you, and sorry. I appreciate everything you've done, but this isn't your fight. Besides, I suck at magic and I don't want the next person to have a ring shot into them to be one of you guys. Winter is my problem. Don't worry about her, or me! And no offence, but I hope I never see you guys again._

_Summer._

'Dean?' Sam started. And then a white lighting of a headache split his head in two.


	9. Some Kind of Monster

_sparkyCSI - Yay! Happy to hear. Not sure when I'll be sending more your way, but it's a vodka and crack night...!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, July 2007

**Chapter Nine:** **Some Kind Of Monster **

It was almost lunch time by the time we pulled into Salem. The trucker had actually been quite nice – he was trying to get home to his wife and kids – and I gave him my thanks as we pulled into a gas station just on the edge of town. It wasn't until I was standing there, staring down the semi-empty streets that I realised how tired I was. I had to confront my sister, but I couldn't do it in this state.

I headed to the motel I could see and paid for a room. I had some savings in my tree. It wasn't much – it just about covered the room for the night – and I certainly wasn't going to be eating that night. Not that I was hungry, what with the unease which was gnawing away in my stomach.

Yet, despite knowing I was exhausted, I could only manage a few hours sleep, and much of that was spent tossing and turning. In the end, I gave up and headed to the local store to see what I could afford to buy. I got a candy bar and a can of Coke and was heading back when I saw a paper lying in the gutter. It was one of the smaller headlines that caught my attention: _Something Wiccan This Way Comes_. Alright, so, I was in Salem, and it was a pretty good play on words, but when the main headline screamed_ Girls Gutted, police still have no suspects_, to say I was alarmed was a bit of an understatement. I grabbed the paper and headed back to my room.

The majority of the paper was covering these murders. There had been eleven in total – two were still to be named, but as I stared at their pictures in horror… they were Raven and Lily. Despite how things had ended with the coven, I didn't want to see any of them dead. I brushed the tears from my eyes so I could continue reading, focusing on the article which had first caught my attention.

Strangely, it was the only one that knew what it was talking about, and yet, as I read it, I knew that there was no one who would take it seriously. The author had managed to find something out about the Magiks des Mortis, explaining that one of its most powerful spells was immortality, and the way to achieve this was to drain the life force, the blood, of thirteen people, and drink it.

This was what Winter was doing? I felt my stomach churn and only just made it to the bathroom before I emptied my stomach into the toilet bowl.

I slumped back against the bath trying to regain some normalcy to my racing heart. Somewhere along the lines my sister had changed into a monster. As I stared out into the room I realized how alike it was to every other motel room I had stayed in over the past weeks, and how much I missed the brothers. Maybe taking off hadn't been the best of ideas. But as my shoulder continued to throb, I knew I couldn't let anyone else get hurt.

My hands found my locket and I opened it, staring numbly at the picture of me and Marcus. No, I may not have taken the easy option, but I had taken the right one.

I closed my locket and rose to my feet, feeling the grim determination set in. Somehow, I was going to stop my sister.

-------------------------------------

After a few hours, and a lot of talking to the locals, I discovered that a lot of the activity had centered in the oldest part of town, but there was nothing more definitive than that. Until I saw the postcard. I pulled it from the stand and slipped it into my pocket – all of my money had gone by this point.

It was a picture of an old house – according to the back of the card it was the last house to have its women burnt during the Witch Trials – and in front of it, there was a statue of a raven.

I stuffed the card into my back pocket and asked a few more locals for directions. By the time I had them, it was already dark. I set off in the direction I had been pointed. The house was just on the outskirts of town. As I walked, I felt certain that I was being followed, but every time I turned around I couldn't see anything.

And then I heard a familiar growl of an engine.

'Summer!' Sam's voice cried from the car as it rolled alongside me.

'You guys shouldn't have come,' I told him as I continued walking, refusing to look at them.

'Summer, it's not safe. You need to get in the car.'

I stopped and turned, the car stopping also, as I placed my hands on my shoulders. 'The thing I need to do doesn't involve me getting in the car,' I retorted, wondering how on earth they managed to catch up with me so quickly.

'The thing you _need to do_ is going to get you killed,' Sam told me, his eyes pleading with me.

I ran my fingers through my hair, 'Sam,' I sighed, 'I appreciate your concern, but I think that I'm the only one that can stop my sister. And I have to do it now, before it's too late. I didn't expect you to follow me, and I'm sorry you did. You should just turn around and go fight your demons.'

'Summer, get in the damn car,' Dean told me, glaring at me behind Sam.

'So you can point a gun at my head again? I know what Winter is capable of, and you should get out of here while you still can.'

'You should have taken her advice.'

My head shot up at the sound of the third voice – it was unmistakable. 'Winter,' I said, staring at my twin who was standing in front of the car.

'Hello sister,' she smiled.

I stared at her – she had changed. She had the same face as me and the same black hair I should have had, still wearing one of those ridiculous dresses, but her brown eyes were now black, and she looked… less human.

'You turned up on time,' she informed me.

She was raising her hand when the door to Impala shot open, and Sam grabbed me, puling me into the car as he yelled, 'GO!' to Dean.

'No!' I screamed as we hurtled away, 'You have to let me out!' I was using Sam as a punching bag again, but I had to get out of the car.

'Your sister is a crazy bitch who's going to kill you,' Dean shouted at me.

'She's not going to kill me,' I argued back.

'Dean!' Sam yelled, pointing to the road. Dean, who had been staring at me instead of the road, turned his head at the same time I did, to see my sister standing in the middle of the road.

I grabbed the wheel, ignoring the pain that went shooting through me from my shoulder, and yanked it towards me.

The car flipped and rolled, until it came to a stop on its roof.

The world was spinning and getting progressively darker as I looked up at Dean. He had been the only one wearing his seatbelt and as such, he was hanging upside down, his arms lifelessly dangling onto my lap, and a great gash above his left eye, the blood slowly leaking into his hair.

With a great effort I turned my head to find Sam. He was slumped against the door, eyes unopened, and his arm twisted into a position it shouldn't have been.

_I've just killed us all_, I thought as I slowly drifted away.


	10. What I’ve Done

_Shez - Hey! I'm glad you like it. It's taken some work - I have found it weird writing in first person! And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update! I suck, I know!!_

_sparkyCSI - Strangely, I actually want my muses back on the crack. But sadly, nothing in the immediate future. Though if I manage to stay awake, there might be something for you!_

_SilverStorm06 - I'm evil, aren't I? Here's another chapter, sorry it took so long!_

_gretchless - Thinking about it, it would actually be an amazing ability. Glad you like!_

_Still no spoilers - just thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

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Something Wiccan This Way Comes 

© Axellia, November 2007

**Chapter Ten: What I've Done**

I awoke with a pounding head, a pounding shoulder, and the realization I was still alive, and still in Dean's car. I shifted, crying out in pain from putting too much pressure on my wounded arm. It took everything in me to grit my teeth and right myself. As the head rush I was experiencing subsided I finally noticed the other occupant of the car. Dean. He was still unconscious, still hanging lifelessly from the seat belt which had captured him.

'Dean?' I croaked, feeling for a pulse. The relief I felt at feeling that regular throb quickly disappeared when I saw that Sam wasn't there.

'Sam!' I shouted, the cry still lost in a croak. I pulled myself from the car, ignoring the old pain which was combining with the new as I crawled through shattered glass. With my head still spinning, I stood, looking around for Sam. I was desperately clinging to the idea that he had gone for help, but at the same time, I was certain beyond doubt that had he regained consciousness first, his brother would not be still hanging limply from the seat of his beloved car.

Grunting in pain, I made my way to the other side of the car, refusing to think about where he actually was. I couldn't just leave Dean there. He needed to see a doctor.

'Dean?' I gently shook him, urging him to wake. 'Dean!'

At that point, the groan that escaped his lips was the sweetest sound I could hope for.

'Dean, wake up,' I muttered. He was barely conscious, still groaning incoherently. Taking a breath, I crawled back into the car, coming to rest under him. Using the last remaining strength I had, I tried to push him up as I unclipped his seatbelt, but the strength evaded me and he came crashing down upon me. Winded, I lay there, desperately wanting to scream at the pain his dead weight was causing me, but unable to.

Finally, I caught my breath and gritted my teeth, hauling him back out through the broken passenger window I had exited through earlier. I collapsed just off the road. 'Come on, Dean,' I muttered at him, shaking his shoulders. Realizing that he was probably going to be out for a while, I knew I had to do something.

Searching my brain, I remembered the incantation for levitation as the rain began to once again fall heavily. '_Fleotan_,' I muttered. It didn't look like it had worked, but as I pulled Dean upright, supporting him with my shoulder, I noticed he wasn't quite the dead weight I expected him to be. Slowly and painfully, I made my way back to the town. As I neared one of the few still lit stores, Dean finally began to come around.

'What happened?' he groaned.

'I'll explain it all soon,' I told him, still muttering the incantation in my head. 'Right now we need to get you to a hospital.'

'No!' he all but roared at me. 'No hospital.'

'Dean-'

'I said no hospital,' he managed again, before groaning and losing consciousness.

My brain was telling me he needed a doctor, but it was also telling me he was right. How on earth was I going to explain what had happened? I was slowly beginning to struggle under his weight – my mind was now as exhausted as my body – as the flickering lights of the hotel I had checked into caught my eye. I managed to pretty much drag Dean to the door and get him onto the bed as what little magic I had left in me drained from my body.

I stared down at Dean's unconscious form, finally drinking in all his cuts and scrapes. There was one on his arm – the claw marks he had obtained only those few nights ago, which were soaking through the filthy bandage that was covering them.

I was truly exhausted, but I knew that he needed seeing to. From the pain I was feeling, I knew I needed seeing to. Remembering that the boys had a fairly well stocked first aid kit in the trunk of their car, I turned and walked, well, it was hobbling at this point, and returned to the car – it taking a lot less time to return than it had for me to get to the motel.

I had to prise the trunk open, the contents falling to the ground as I did. Staring down at the various weaponry glinting up at me in the downpour, I scooped it up, sticking as much of it as I could into a large duffle bag. Explaining to the cops what had happened was one thing, explaining an arsenal was another thing entirely – and the whole fake ID thing? As I remembered that, I investigated the car, trying to remove anything incriminating that I could.

As my fingers curled around the worn leather bounding of a journal, I left the car, returning to the motel. This time, the journey took even longer than it had carrying Dean. Weighed down by guns, swords, books, a laptop, and even a few grenades, my body was numb to the pain coursing through my body.

Finally, I crashed through the motel door, refrained from throwing the things on the floor (for fear of blowing us up) and pulled out the first aid kit.

I was cold and exhausted and my fingers didn't want to work, but I stayed awake long enough to clean and dress all of Dean's wounds before virtually passing out atop of him.

--------------------------------------------------

Dean's groan as he stirred beneath me awakened me. My own groans joined his as I sat upright. It was still dark out – we couldn't have gotten too much sleep… was _sleep_ the right word?

'What the hell happened?' Dean moaned. He bolted upright as if suddenly remembering what happened. 'Where's Sam?' he demanded.

I shrugged. 'Winter,' was all I could offer.

And then Dean was on his feet storming out of the motel room. I dashed after him, colliding with his back as he suddenly stopped in the middle of the parking lot. 'Where's my car?' he cried in disbelief.

I took a breath. 'On its roof, about a mile out of town.'

I'd guess from the way Dean whirled around, fire in his eyes, that he hadn't completely remembered what had happened until that point. 'Your sister,' he accused me.

I nodded slowly. What exactly could I say to that?

'Where is she?'

'I don't know.'

Dean glared at me.

'I don't know,' I repeated myself, somewhat more insistently.

Dean swore. 'I need to get back to the car.'

'I've already emptied it,' I muttered at him, wondering how he would take that admission. He glared at me again before striding past me and into the room. I followed him back in. 'What do you need that for?' I exclaimed as he pulled a shotgun from the pile of weapons.

'I'm going to kill the bitch,' he told me.

I swear my heart missed a beat. 'Dean!' I objected as he again strode past me. I chased after him once again, putting myself between him and the doorway. 'You can't kill her!' I cried, trying to get him to stop as I pushed him back.

He did stop – he threw me against a wall, getting up in my face. 'She's killed who knows how many people,' he growled at me.

'You still can't kill her!'

Dean's eyes narrowed at me further. 'She has Sam. She killed your boyfriend. Or have you forgotten that?'

_As if I could ever forget that_ 'Dean, I never want to speak to her again, but that doesn't mean I can stand by and watch you kill her.'

'She's evil,' Dean shouted at me, as if I was forgetting whether or not the sky was blue.

'She's my sister!' I shouted at him. 'The Goddess be Damned, Dean. Are you telling me that if Sam freaked out, you'd suddenly be able to turn around and kill him?'

'My brother isn't about to _freak out_ and start a killing spree with the intention of becoming immortal.'

'You still wouldn't kill him,' I emphasized. And you wouldn't stand by and let someone kill him either. Now if I have to stop you, I will.'

At that, Dean actually cocked his head at me and smirked. 'You're threatening the guy holding the gun?'

'I'm threatening the guy threatening my sister,' I corrected him.

Dean's expression softened. 'I couldn't hurt Sam.'

'I know,' I sighed, feeling somewhat relieved as he backed away from me slightly.

'But I also won't stand by and let someone kill him.'

I took a deep breath. 'Then we have to find her and stop her. Without killing her,' I added.

'Let's start with that house.'

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_I''m really hoping I can write some more soon - and not leave you waiting so long!_

_Until then, please drop me a line and tell me what you like, or alternatively, what you don't!_


	11. You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

_The Corrupter - I haven't written it for reviews - they're just a bonus! I simply wanted to improve my writing - I really don't think I work first person well! That being said, I am enjoying writing this (My muses are crazy) but thanks!_

_sparkyCSI - Ha ha, I forgot I had this written. Now I'm wondering the same thing!_

_I can't remember if this chapter was beta's or not. So if it's full of mistakes, well, it wasn't, and if it's all alright, then I owe big thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

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**Something Wiccan This Way Comes**

© Axellia, April 2008

**Chapter Eleven: You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet**

The house looked a lot more foreboding in the early morning light than it did in the postcard I was still clutching to. What the picture didn't show was that it was actually located on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the bay. Which was probably why no one had bothered to buy the house and rebuild it into a tourist trap. It was drizzling. The kind of fine rain which manages to soak you through and through, even though it was so soft and fine. This whole "weather matching my mood" lark was kinda depressing. Which was doing nothing to improve either my mood, or the weather.

I took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. Dean and I were surveying the house – which consisted of me following him around its grounds, hidden in the unkempt shrubbery. He had clearly had a fair amount of experience at it. Me? I was trying not to trip.

'I can't see anything from out here,' Dean whispered to me. 'We're going to have to go in.'

I bit my lip and nodded. 'Alright.'

I followed to the back door, watching whilst he picked the lock, all whilst trying not to look as nervous as I felt. Somehow, the fact that when I leant on the door, it opened, made me feel better. Poor Dean – he had been trying hard with picking it, his face made me smile.

'Stay behind me,' Dean ordered.

I nodded again and followed him in. As we crept about the abandoned house, I couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. Now, I'm not proclaiming to be a psychic, but you know when you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you just know it's all about to go horribly wrong? Well, put it this way, every cell in my body was screaming at me to leave that house. I wish I had listened.

Needless to say, the house was ruined. It was in a worse state behind the walls than it looked like from the outside. The house had all but caved in on the top floor – the stairs led up to a pile of rubble. Well, they would have done if half of them hadn't have caved in at some point over the last hundred years. The rain had managed to get in and had streaked down the walls leaving clear track marks in between the coating of soot and dirt, which was also surrounded by a foul smelling mould.

'Dean, she's not going to be in here,' I muttered.

Dean shot me a glare but carried on pressing forward around the piles of rubble.

'Dean,' I repeated. 'I know Winter, she-'

'She wouldn't what?' Dean snapped. 'Kill someone?'

'Hey!' I objected angrily. 'That's not fair.'

'No,' he shot back. 'Not fair is _your_ sister taking _my _brother.'

I was ready for telling him that I wished it had been him that Winter had taken, when we both heard a noise.

'Stay here,' Dean told me, edging towards the door from which the noise had come from.

Like that was going to happen – I'd have no chance of saving my sister from here. I had followed Dean through the doors. And then stumbled, falling down – it turned out there were stairs behind door number one – straight into his back.

'Summer!' he hissed. 'I told you to stay up there.'

He was about to continue, but I clamped my hand down over his mouth cutting him off, and pointed down behind him. His eyes quickly widened, the glare he was sending me disappearing, as he heard movement below. I slowly removed my hand and continued to creep down the stairs just behind Dean.

We crouched in the shadows just by the foot of the stairs. Remarkably, the cellar had managed to survive the last century very well. It was lit by candles so we could see the room quite well. The room looked lived in. there were a couple of couches – the pillows and blankets showing they had doubled up as beds – and in the back there was a large bed which looked obnoxiously out of place.

And in the far corner, out of the way, sat at a table, were Fern and Violet, two of Winter's closest friends in the coven.

'What now?' I mouthed at Dean.

Dean grinned at me. 'Stay here,' he mouthed back.

He was on his feet and walking calmly into the room before I could stop him.

'Stop right there,' Fern demanded as soon as Dean stepped off the last step.

'Hey there,' Dean greeted them. Even though I could only see the back of his head, I knew he was grinning at them with that flirty grin he has.

Violet's grin back was confirmation enough. 'Hello.'

'I'm a little lost,' Dean told them smoothly, all whilst continuing to walk towards them. 'I was hoping one, or both, of you beautiful ladies would mind showing me where I could find a bite to eat in this town?'

'I-'

Violet was cut off by Fern hitting her in the stomach. 'You got lost and just happened to find your way into this cellar?' Fern asked sarcastically. 'I think not.'

'Are you kidding-'

'Læccan!' Fern shouted.

Before Dean knew what was happening, the spell set in, and he found himself bound by an invisible force.

'What the hell?!' he cried.

As the invisible ropes clearly became tighter, I knew I had to do something.

'Let him go!' I cried, stepping into the room.

'Hello Summer,' Fern smiled at me. 'We've been expecting you.'

'Really?' I asked, arching my eyebrow at her. 'That does surprise me.'

'Læccan,' she cried again.

This time, the invisible ropes were aimed at me. 'Lysan!' I shouted back. The effect was instant relief as the invisible bonds fell away from both me and Dean.

'You bitches are going to pay for that,' Dean grunted from the floor, where he had fallen, trying to catch his breath.

'What did you just call us?' Fern asked, outraged.

I rolled my eyes. 'Look, this is how it's going to go. We're all going to waste a lot of time and energy throwing spells at each other, Dean will try to knock you out, probably succeed with one of you, the other will knock him out, and I'll end up ending it with magic. So how about we quit that hassle now and you just tell us where Sam and Winter are?'

'Not a chance!' Violet informed me. 'Læccan!'

'Lysan,' I responded before the spell had chance to stop Dean.

Dean continued charging at the women whilst I muttered counter-curses. As Fern went flying back over the table, hitting the wall and landing in an unceremonious unconscious heap, Violet picked up her chair, swinging it at Dean, sending it crashing to the floor.

'Ani-breahtm.'

Violet looked at me, clutching her throat, as my spell took away her voice. She glared at me and started to charge. So I used her own curse on her. 'Læccan.' Violet stopped dead in her tracks.

'Couldn't you have done that to start with?' Dean asked, rising to his feet.

I shrugged. 'I tried.'

Dean glared at me. 'Like hell you did.'

'Now what?' I asked instead of arguing.

Dean grabbed one of the blankets off the couch. 'Start ripping.'

I grabbed the other and attempted to follow suit. Thing is, I wasn't quite strong enough to rip the fabric. With a frustrated grunt, Dean took the blanket off me and ripped it himself.

--

It took a while, but finally the two girls were tied up, back to back.

'Now what?' I asked Dean.

'Now we wake them up and ask them where Sam is.'

'Dean, the second they wake up, they're going to throw some curse at us.'

Dean nodded. 'I know. That's why I bought this.' From the back of his waist band, Dean pulled a gun out from his trousers.

My mouth dropped open. 'What in the name of the Goddess are you doing with a gun?' I shrieked at him. 'We agreed we weren't going to kill my sister.'

'We didn't agree on these two,' Dean shrugged.

'Dean! They're just _girls_!'

Dean shot me a glare. 'Who would quite happily have killed us.'

'They were my friends!' I cried in disbelief.

'Who would have quite _happily_ have _killed_ us,' Dean repeated. 'Now do you want to let blondie here,' he nodded at Violet who was looking completely terrified at the sight of the gun, 'speak, or shall I wake her friend up?'

I closed my eyes praying neither would do anything stupid. 'Breahtm.'

'Don't kill me,' Violet begged the second the spell had been lifted.

'Where's my brother?' Dean demanded getting right in her face.

'The tall one?' Violet whimpered.

'Yes,' I affirmed.

'Winter has him.'

'We know that!' Dean exploded. 'Where the hell is he?'

'She… she took him… to perform the last ritual…'

'WHERE?' Dean roared.

Violet shook her head. 'I can't tell you. Winter… she'll…'

'Gun,' said Dean, waving it in the small gap between her face and his. 'Bullet. Head.'

'I can't tell you!' Violet cried, bursting into tears. 'Please, Summer! Please!'

'Onslepan.'

Violet slumped over, eyes shut. Not even Dean slapping her face was going to awaken her from the sleeping spell I had cast.

'What-'

'She wasn't going to tell us,' I snapped, cutting him off. 'Now, we can spend all day arguing, or we can find Sam and save him.'

'HOW?' Dean bellowed at me.

'I can do a locating spell.'

Dean looked at me in disbelief. 'Isn't that what you were doing when you nearly killed us and burnt half a motel down?'

'I can control it. I know I can,' I told him. 'And it's not the same spell.' Okay, so maybe I wasn't entirely sure if I could control it, but it really wasn't the same spell.'

'What do you need?'

'Something of Sam's.' I told him. 'If I try to use something of Winter's, she's going to know we're coming.'

'I don't have anything with me,' Dean told me.

'Nothing? Not even anything he gave you?' I asked desperately.

Dean's fingers flew to his necklace. 'He gave me this when we were kids,' he told me, handing it over.

I fingered the metal charm uncertainly. I had no idea if this was going to work.

* * *

_Woops! Kinda forgot about this fic! Sorry! Hopefully the next update won't be so far away!_


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